Her Story: DREAMS REALLY CAN COME TRUE

DREAMS REALLY CAN COME TRUE

BY THERESA JARVELA | SUBMITTED PHOTOS

As a child of six years I loved baby dolls, pretty dresses and curly hair, but most of all I loved horses and more than anything desired one for my very own.

Second born of 11 children, I remember my father as a builder of additions. Warm summer days I watched him in the backyard carry boards to sawhorses, measure and saw them by hand. I loved watching him work, but to be honest, I had my eye on the sawhorses. When he started pounding nails I would climb onto one of them and suddenly it became my big, black, beautiful stallion.

We shared many adventures together, my horse and I, while we traversed creeks, explored green forests and rode with abandon through sunlit canyons. (I watched a lot of westerns as a kid). Wherever I wanted to go, my horse would take me and I loved him. And when Dad needed the sawhorse, I jumped off and galloped around the yard. Not much kept me and my horse from our adventures.

Pictured are a young Theresa and her horse, Babe, by a corral her dad made.

Submitted Photo.

As time went on, the desire for a horse of my own grew and set me on a path to achieve my dream. I entered “Name the Horse” contests (always Fury which wasn’t very original). When I didn’t win the first contest, I entered the next one. Then one day I found a catalog that sold ponies. Maybe I could buy one if I saved enough money!

Around that time measles came calling and I found myself confined to bed, horse plans on hold. Then one day while headed for recovery, my mother called me into the kitchen. Standing beside her, I wondered why she had summoned me when through the outside door and into the house came my father with a smile on his face, reins in his hand and leading a real live horse. And he said it was mine!

Exciting times lay ahead for Babe and me (not sure if Dad or Grandpa named him Babe — he didn’t look like a Fury anyway) but little did I know how exciting those times would prove to be.

Theresa Jarvela and her cousin, Colleen, take a cart ride.

Submitted Photo.

Whether or not Babe had been ridden very much was questionable but what wasn’t questionable was the fact that he frightened easily and had a mind of his own. I was in for a few tumbles.

Minnesota snow banks were deep and the air cold as I sat in the saddle and watched Dad and Grandpa trudge ahead of Babe and me while holding very long reins. We were in the process of training my horse to be ridden. I guess you could say that for Babe and me it was a love-hate relationship. I loved him and he hated to be ridden. Soon, however, we came to an understanding and for the most part, he let me have my way but not without throwing me off more than a few times. We shared lots of good times and some not so good times but through it all, made many memories.

Theresa’s brother, Tom, takes the reins while their dad watches on.

Submitted Photo.

Winter days can be fun especially when your father buys an old-fashioned sleigh to go with your horse. To add to the fun of a sleigh ride, my siblings and cousins (who lived next door), roped their sleds to the back of the sleigh and off we’d go down the road.

Grandpa built a cart for the summer months and we had many good times in it, too. But I remember one time that wasn’t so good. Because Babe was very skittish, anything out of the ordinary would scare him, a tissue blowing across the road, the wind whistling through the trees or a cat darting out from a ditch. That particular day it could have been any number of things that frightened Babe but whatever it was, he took off like a bullet. There’s nothing like a runaway horse pulling a cart.

“Winter days can be fun especially when your father buys an old-fashioned sleigh to go with your horse,” says Theresa.

Submitted Photo.

Many years have passed since I was that child with a dream. Now I have children and grandchildren of my own, and yes, most have taken a fancy to horses. Dad is no longer living but memories of the day I first met Babe are still very much alive.

My father taught me many things. He taught me to love my country, to take pride in myself and to work hard.

But most of all, he taught me to believe in my dreams, because dreams really can come true.

Theresa M. Jarvela, freelancer and author of the cozy mystery series, “Tales of a Tenacious Housesitter,” makes her home in Brainerd, Minnesota.